All Hail Tears, Hurt, and Bloodshed
by El Reino
Summary: Nightwingstar's contest. Based on song All Hail The Heartbreaker by The Spill Canvas. Max is trying to get over someone she fell in love with. Trying. First attempt at humor. T
1. Chapter 1

**All Hail Tears, Hurt, and Bloodshed**

**This is actually for a contest by Nightwingstar. I will update this more than any other stories because the deadline is coming up soon. Not expecting this to be long. Enjoy!**

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You try living with a heartbreaker. I mean seriously. When little old ladies say stuff like "Oh he's going to be such a little heartbreaker." Do they really know what they're saying? Do they know they're just condemning us girls to eternal torture because they fell in love with 'The Heartbreaker'?

It makes me sick.

What makes me even sicker is that I had to go and fall in love with one of those heartbreakers. Yes, I, Maximum Ride, am admitting my feelings. Get used to it, because Love has made me do some pretty wacky stuff.

_**It's done some pretty wacky stuff.**_

Amen, to that, brother.

So let me clear this up. I am not a hormonal teenager who is in "love". I am a broken twenty two-year-old, who is sadly trying to get out of being, in _LOVE._

You know; the kind of Love romance novelists makes their livings on. The Love that tears down countries and helps overpopulate another?

That kind of Love.

The Love that is personified as Cupid, shooting people in the butt with magic pink arrows, because that is the only way to explain why it makes people so loopy.

_I'd really like to shoot Cupid with an arrow of my own._

Anyway… back to the heartbreaker deal.

It was any other day. You know, as normal as a life can be for a bird woman. A bird woman who works in a bar. Yes, I work in a bar. It doesn't mean I'm a skank, or easy, or a smoker. It just means I didn't get the education I needed to get a job that pays tons of money.

(I can't believe I'm saying this… well here it goes.)

So don't be like me… go to school kids!

(Oh I really hated that…)

Just don't work in a bar okay? Just because I'm not easy, doesn't mean that men know that. I mean c'mon! I don't even wear tight, revealing clothes! I have wings to hide, after all.

_**It's because you're so beautiful, Max.**_

Shove it. If only _he_ had thought that.

_**Maybe he did.**_

Don't make me tell _where_ to shove it.

But I'm getting distracted again. As I said, it had been a normal day for me… or night. Then _he_ walked in. In that moment my heart dropped to my toes, and my stomach started taking up ballet.

I don't know what was so special about that day. Maybe it was just because I had dodged so many come-ons by greasy men before he walked in. Maybe it was because I hadn't seen him in so long, because, unlike me, he had gotten a decent job that took up most of his time. Maybe it was because I had a pink arrow sticking out of my butt and didn't notice. Maybe it was because I went crazy.

I like that one better. I went crazy. That's a really fitting explanation for what happened to me.

He came up and flashed a grin my way, which was just so hard to resist. I grinned back, my stomach now doing the cha-cha. I slid up to him, still grinning like an idiot. He sat down slowly, never taking his eyes off of mine.

Weird thoughts flashed through my head. Loopy thoughts. Stuff like: _Now I would trust this man to take care of me._ Like I needed a man to take care of me. I mean… a _man_? I doubt he could wipe his own butt. Or like: _I would change for this man. No, _he_ will change _me_._

WHO THE HECK IS TAKING OVER MY BODY?!

"What will it be?" I asked, a little more seductively than I knew I could be.

He just smiled and shook his head. "Maybe I just came here for you."

I should have laughed it off. Or smashed a precious bottle of bourbon over his head. But _noooo_. I had to stand there.

I had to get hooked. I had to get hooked on a heartbreaker.

Stupid Max.


	2. Chapter 2

**All Hail Tears, Hurt, and Bloodshed.**

**Part Two**

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Shorter chapter, but the next one (the last one) is coming soon. Enjoy!

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I didn't just fall, per say. No, I swooned. Every chance I got.

I would fall a little bit harder with every little grin he would give me. Every soft-spoken word directed my way spun me around. My heart would beat just a little bit faster. My stomach became the best dancer I had ever known.

I mean, I, _hate_ sappy moments. I burn romance movies and novels for fun, and eat come-ons for breakfast. But he had me eating out of the palm of my hand. I feel like an idiot.

I don't really have to tell you the fall of the great Maximum Ride, do I? Well, maybe I do. Let this be a lesson. When you see Cupid coming your way, run. Or eat him. Or better yet, shoot him with one of his own arrows. Make him dance the idiotic waltz of the ones who are oppress-I mean… in Love.

Dance chubby little man, dance.

What gets me now is that, he used movies lines and I wasn't in the right mind enough to kill him or laugh. I just sat there and swooned. Movie lines. MOVIES!

I wonder how he knew these lines in the first place.

The pink loopy feelings had finally made their way to my brain. Crap. So when he asked me out on our first date… no. I don't have to go into _that._

I refuse to go into that. Just know I beat myself everyday, for the way I acted the day of our first date. I just get myself into the worst situations.

Like: Being chased around the country by Erasers and Flyboys, being captured and experimented on by Itex, fighting my own brother to the death, and (my favorite) falling in love with a friggin' heartbreaker.

Anyway, I acted like an over exited puppy around him.

"You love me? You really do? Oh, you don't know how happy that makes me feel!"

Since when did I feel?!

I am not even divulge how I acted when he suggested we move in with each other. I see it now. It was an evil scheme created by him to get out of paying rent. After all, he moved into_ my_ apartment. He ate _my_ food. He slept in _my_ spare room.

(He was the one who suggested we sleep in separate beds since I was too delirious to demand it.)

He infected me.

…Oh wait, that didn't sound good…

It was a metaphor, I swear!

I meant he infected my thoughts, my dreams, okay? Every step I took was basically in the hopes of seeing him again.

I hated it… Well not then, but now.

The whitecoats had risen again in this one person to give me another kind of hell. I bet they are having fun watching me beat myself up.

It sucked. It sucks.

But yet I still can't get him out of my head. I was living in a fantasy world where I and he was the tightest thing since butter and jam. That was until he went and broke up with me.

Then I did another kind of falling. I fell hard.

Stupid Max.


	3. Chapter 3

**All Hail Tears, Hurt, and Bloodshed**

**Part Three**

**I hope you enjoy the last installment. I had fun... In a dark way...**

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The man actually had the gall to go and say, "He wasn't ready for this kind of relationship."

WHAT FREAKIN' REALTIONSHIP?!

I was even holding a knife and I didn't stab him in the heart. Or the little Cupid who was cackling evilly over my shoulder. I swear I heard him! I'm not going crazy. Oh wait, I did already go crazy. It was the day I fell in Love with him.

Anyway, we never had a relationship! It was one of those symbiotic things. He was the leech, taking everything from me. My food, my electricity, my _hot water._ I was just the poor, stupid unsuspecting victim. I was the human, and he was the parasite.

I like that. My heartbreaker was also a parasite.

In my strange, twisted state of mind I agreed to let him end the relationship.

And I cried.

I, as Maximum Ride, don't cry when a guy breaks up with me. I cry when my brother dies. I cried when Iggy left the flock to go with his "parents." I DON'T, under any circumstances cry over a guy!

_I _make the guy cry.

But nooo, I had to cry over this stupid, manipulative, parasitic little… BOY!

Yes, he is not even worthy to be called a man.

_**Well technically…**_

Aw, shuddaup!

Do you know what it was like living with him? I didn't even have the strength left to kick him out! I was still too much in "Love" with him to accept we had broken up. It's not like our relationship changed anyway. I was still the unwilling host and he the devious parasite.

It was kind of hard, seeing him walk out of the shower dressed only in a towel, heading for a date. It killed me to see him in that same towel coming up and asking me if everything was cool between us.

My dreams towards him started getting violent. They always ended with him of the end of a shotgun, or pistol, or a beautiful bladed knife.

Nobody strings me along and gets away with it! And since I had a normal childhood, such dreams were to be expected.

So when I walked in one day and saw him making out with some stranger dressed in only a few pieces of clothing, I snapped. I calmly put my groceries that I had paid for on the counter. But I couldn't stand it. His hands all over her body. She, swooning. Them, having a passionate love scene in _my_ apartment.

It was then I realized how well he had played me. I realized just how stupid I had been. How this heartbreaker had turned me into one of those stupid, swooning girl stereotypes I hated.

Instead of Love, I started Hating him.

But I did have to admire how flawlessly he had played me into his hands.

So as I picked him up by the neck, I just had to admire him.

Then I sucker punched him and all those positive feelings went away. He flew into my back wall and I enjoyed it.

I grabbed his screaming wench by the hair and threw them both out into the hall. (Literally) Him, I made sure he bounced against the wall. The girl, well I was nicer to her. It wasn't her fault she was so stupid to fall for him.

I grabbed all his stuff and nailed him with it and slammed the door.

All I kept was one sweater. One sweater to remind me what not to be stupid enough to do anymore. One sweater that reeks of the cologne he used to douse himself with everyday. One sweater to help me cope.

'Cause like it or not, that pink arrow was a pain to wrench out of my butt. Now I was just going to have to make sure it wasn't infected.

Now, I'm planning my revenge. I'm waiting for the day to prove to him I was never his toy. I'm his worst nightmare. I plan to rip out his heart like he did mine.

Stupid boy.


End file.
